The Hunter Becomes The Hunted
by Cead
Summary: Set after The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. A rift has grown between Blomvist and Salander, but that's the least of their worries. When Mikael receives a mysterious call and learns Gottfried Vanger is still alive.. And he's closing in on them both
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"_And that is where The pejorative sense of fear moves axels"- John Ashberry_

Mikael watched Erika's naked chest rise and fall against the mattress, so carelessly, so effortlessly, it made him wonder how many times Erika had ever had to put in effort into the miracle that was breathing. He rubbed the scar around his neck as the memories of Martin Vanger's sadistic torture basement flashed before his weary eyes. He thought back to the chains, the smoke from the cigarette, the cruel cold laughter and the horrific revelation of Gottfried's sick impressions left on his poor son's mind. A cold sweat broke out over his body and a shiver crawled through his limbs like a spider, tapping at his nerves, making him squirm at thoughts of horror unravelling in his mind like a ball of twine. His breathing became heavy and came in short gasps as the rope tightened around his neck, he couldn't breathe, he-

"Mikael!"

Erika's voice shattered through the visions. He snapped back to reality and was taken aback by the closeness of Erika's frightened eyes.

"Mikael, Mikael look at me. It's okay, it's okay..." Her hands gently caressed his face as he tried to focus. Mikael's breath slowly returned to him and the rest of the room materialised.

"It happened again, didn't it?" she whispered quietly. Mikael nodded, still trying to remember what had happened before. Erika sighed. "I thought you said it had stopped. Mike, you need to go and see someone about this. It's not good." Mikael pushed her hand away from his cheek.

"I don't need to see a shrink, Ricky, because I'm not ill, ok?" He held his face in his hands. "I just... need time."

"I didn't mean a shrink. What about Lisbeth?"

"Salander? Oh, I don't know Ricky... She would have called me by know if she wanted to talk. I know her."

"Maybe she's waiting for you to call her."

"No, no, no, she would have called, she would have come over. You know her, she's... difficult sometimes." Mikael said carefully.

"What if she's in the middle of a case?" Erika offered. "She mightn't have had the time."

"Lisbeth isn't like that. She doesn't let something like work stop her from doing anything. If she wasn't so good, I doubt she'd even have a job anymore."

"But-"

"NO Erika!" Mikael shouted. Even he was shocked by the volume of his voice. Erika immediately shut her mouth. Her eyes showed a flash of hurt, but it was gone so quickly, Mikael wondered his he had seen it at all. She got up from the bed and slipped on her bath robe.

"I'm going to get you some sleeping pills. I have work soon anyway."

Mikael could sense it took all her effort not to slam the door on the way back. He flung himself back onto the bed with a sigh. He gazed at the ceiling, deep in thought. Why hadn't Salander called? It had been weeks since he'd seen or heard from her. It didn't add up. Before she had seemed so... happy just be with him, but now...

Mikael let out an anguished cry. It wasn't just why she hadn't called that bothered him, but why it bothered him so much. He'd never felt so strange inside. Not for Ricky, not for his ex-wife. So why Lisbeth?

When Erika returned, he drifted to an uneasy sleep. Vanger's basement reappeared before his very eyes, but this time it was different. It wasn't him in the rope, but Lisbeth. He stood helplessly as her face turned red as she struggled hard to breathe. Vanger stood infront of her, laughing at her tiny squirming body as she clung desperately to life. Mikael tried hard to move, but he could not budge. He looked down at his legs and arms and saw they were bound by chains. He screamed and screamed, but no sound escaped his life. His throat was mercilessly painful, he couldn't breathe, he-

He woke up screaming to the sound of his ringing phone. He looked down at the display screen, desperately hoping, _dreaming,_ that Salander's name was written across it.

No such luck. Unknown number. He soberly picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he said sleepily.

"_Mikael Blomvist?" _

"Yes, who is this?"

"_I have some... information for you, about the Vangers."_

"Sorry, I no longer work for the Vangers. Would you like me to give you a number?"

"_No, you must know. Harriet lied."_

"What do you mean?

"_Harriet lied to you, Mikael. Gottfried Vanger is still alive. And he knows. He's coming for you Mikael."_

"What? No, you must be mistaken. "

"_I'm sorry, I can't help you any further."_

"Who is this? Wait, don't hang up- damn." Too late.

Mikael sat down on the bed, pondering what had just occurred.

...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"_In love with the night mysterious"-Cole Porter_

Salander sighed and threw the file on the table. She was sick of reading about Erika Berger. She had been all week after all. No work had been taken on from Dragan- she had no time for that. This assignment was personal.

Ever since she had seen Mikael and Erika walk off together that day, Lisbeth had been swept up in a web of rage, hatred and lust. At first, she had thought that simply ignoring Mikael would work, and for a while it had. But there was always something that would remind her of him- even simple things like coffee and golf. So she decided to use her only skills. Berger's files had been growing thicker and thicker every day. The one she had just thrown was the fifth one. She had started with the basics of course- age, appearance, child background etc. But she had been caught up in her acts and had at one point stayed awaked for four whole days hacking away at e-mail accounts, bank accounts, any kind of accounts she had ever known- Lisbeth had written down every last detail.

Salander walked into her kitchen and made her 14th cup of coffee. Turning on the TV, she sunk deep into the sofa and curled up. It was freezing cold, but Salander couldn't afford to turn up her radiator. A week off work was costly, as was her new computer and general upkeep of essential computer hacking equipment. She could almost see her breath in front of her, but she soldiered on, having survived much worse.

Her phone rang in the cold air. She picked up the receiver with a jumper covered hand.

"Hello?"

"Lisbeth, it's Mikael."

"Oh..."

"Look, I don't know why you've not been calling me, but we need to talk."

"Mikael, if I don't want to talk, I don't want to talk."

"Not about that. I've just received a phone call. I think you'll be interested in this."

Salander's eyes widened as she listened intently.

"Gottfried's body was found though..."

"That's what I thought, but I've done a bit of digging. Vanger's body went missing 2 days after it was found."

Lisbeth's blood ran cold. "And Henrik didn't think to tell you this?"

"I don't think he even knew. The department tried to cover it up and organised a private undertakers to take on the job. I don't think there's a body in his coffin."

"Shit..."

"Yeah, and now he's after me, and I wouldn't put it past him not to come snooping around after you too. God, I wish I'd never taken on that stupid job."

"Yeah well, without that job, Millennium would be in the dust and you would be completely broke." _And you would never have met me._

"Was it worth it though? Oh, it doesn't matter. Look, I'm coming over. We have to talk about this."

"Alright, but bring warm clothes. Damn heating's gone up again."

"Alright. Bye."

Lisbeth's heart beat fast in her chest. The thought of Gottfried still being alive had never crossed her mind when she was in on the job. Why would she have thought of that? Gottfried had been dead from the start that was that. She cursed herself for not thinking of checking. Of course it was no use now of course, nothing could change the past. Now she had a bigger problem. Blomvist was coming over, and she had five folders on Erika Berger just lying on her desk. Where the hell was she going to put them?

Once all the evidence was removed, Lisbeth set about tidying the living room. Halfway through, she stopped suddenly. This wasn't like her at all. Worrying about the cleanliness of her home was something she just didn't care about for anyone else. It took her a few minutes to realise that the reason she was being so orderly and out of sorts was because almost exactly 3 days earlier, she had come to the conclusion that Erika Berger was a tidy person from her credit card reports that showed she had a team of cleaners that came in at least 4 times a week to tidy her stately home. She was subconsciously copying Berger's behaviour. She was repulsed at herself and starting putting things back exactly where she had found them- in a large mess in the middle of the floor.

When everything looked normal again, she ran to her bedroom to put on yet another jumper before having to run back to answer the doorbell. Sure enough, Blomvist stood at the door, looking considerably flustered and paranoid. She stood aside to let him inside, which he did rather quickly. She closed the door briskly and turned to face it.

"Long time no see." He said.

"Down to business before pleasantries."

"Of course. I'm just glad to see you again."

Lisbeth couldn't bring herself to tell him that she felt exactly the same.

...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_"Face the fearful with no fear, and its fearfulness disappears."__- Unknown_

_**NB: I am oh so very soory this took so oh so very long, but I promise, this will be taken up again whilst my other FFs are put on hold.**_

"Well…" muttered Lisbeth, breath escaping her chest in one long sigh."I did not see that coming at all."

"Neither did I," Mikael said, leaning back into his chair. He took a sip of the whiskey from his glass, then put it down on a tarnished coaster on an equally uncared for side-table. "Perhaps Harriet got it wrong; she may not have killed him after all."

"OR she's a lying bitch," Lisbeth said simply. Mikael raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, and then Lisbeth finally smashed it to pieces with an iron fist. "Get the phone then," she ordered him. "She's not going to come if we invite her telepathetically."

Mikael's surprise verberated around his expression, then shrugged.

He dialed the number Lisbeth remembered so well, then held the phone to his ear and waited. Lisbeth left him in the sitting room and walked through to her kitchen, pouring a glass of water from her tap. The pile of dirty dishes by her sink caught her eyes, but she ignored their filthy glare and wandered back through to Mikael, who was deep in conversation with the seemingly flabbergasted Harriet Vanger.

"Yes I understand it's inconvient at such an hour…But you don't understand…Harriet, we can't rule it out until we've investigated further…Well can you at least tell me the name of the undertakers or cemetery he was buried...Thank you…No, there's no need…I suppose, yes, it might help…I'll meet you tomorrow morning then…Goodbye, Harriet," Mikael sighed and clicked the red hang up button with a heavy finger.

"She's coming to visit then?" Lisbeth guessed confidently. Just as she suspected, Mikael nodded solemly, then downed the rest of his wiskey.

"It looks like it's going to be a long night," he said. Salander nodded curtly, then tapped her nails on the wooden desk she stood beside. The sharp sound clearly irritated Mikael, but that was what she wanted. He seemed to be more attracted to her when she was being so uncaring and testy, but it was not his embrace Lisbeth wanted. Just his presence.

She knew it may not be there for much longer.

…

"I still don't believe this," Harriet complained yet again. "Are you really going to take the word of a late-night stranger over mine?"

"He sounded pretty convinced to me," Mikael said. Harriet gave that disapproving look for the umpteenth time, eyebrows furrowed and dry lips taught.

"If he is out there," she said unexpectedly, "do you think he really is going to come after you?"

Mikael thought this over for a while. "Well," he wondered aloud, "if I were him, I would. I did manage to indirectly kill his son, which to him is as if I rammed his car into the truck myself. Not that I would object to doing that…"

"What about me? Do you think he'll try and get to me too?"

"Not yet," Mikael stressed the latter word for effect, giving the desired effect on Harriet's terrifed eyes. "He'll most likely leave you until last, to make sure you know he's coming for you. It's all about the chase, Harriet. Without the chase, it's just another kill."

"As if he hasn't done enough of that already," Harriet spat. Her face was full of distaste and terror, as if she were already looking into her father's eyes.

Mikael pulled up outside Salander's, getting out to open Harriet's door for her. She thanked him and followed him inside, looking the building up and down. Lisbeth greeted Mikael with great warmth for her normal mannersims, but almost completely ignored Harriet to the point it was if though only Mikael was the only one to see or hear her.

The meeting was brief, but they had little to discuss that they hadn't already. Harriet told them of her encouter once more, as if the story wasn't horrifying enough to forget in the first instance, and then told them what she knew of her father's funeral. The undertaker firm was a small place not far from where Harriet spent her first few years, a well respected and trusted company by the name of Parkinson's. An unusual name for this country, Mikael thought, but he left the thought to settle in his sub-conscious and returned to the inreegoation of his guest.

Lisbeth was quiet the whole time, barely breathing in her seated stance. She seemed stiff, not daring to move a muscle as her untrusting eyes surveilled Hariett like a circling hawk over a quivering mouse. Mikael observed her in his periforal vision, taking in her form through the corner of his eyes. He had never seen her like this, so…nervous almost, perhaps even a little frightened.

If Salander was frightened, Mikael knew things were about to get scary.

…..

(The Answering Machine)

"You have two new messages. Message one. "

_*panting*_

_*silence*_

_'I know what you did, Kalle Blomkvist. And I will have my revenge, I always do. And you will suffer for what you did to my son, except this time, there will be no-one left to help you.'_

***DIAL TONE***

"Message two."

_'Mikael…he's here, he's coming for me, please you have to help me. He's come for me, and he's coming for you and Lisbeth, please Mikael pick up the phone-_*_screaming*_

*_the distant sound of a short lived struggle, a dull ring, then…*_

_*silence*_

"End of messages."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"And out of all these things I've done,

I think I love you better now."

-Ed Sheeran, Lego House.

They sat in bated silence; Mikael by the fireplace, Lisbeth crouched on the armchair of the Vanger House. They were alone, they thought, but still they would not talk. What would become of their words, alone, drifting on cold air between them, like lost stars in the sky? Cloud-shrouded and broken, slowly shattering like a frozen rose against an anvil.

Harriett was dead, they were next. Together, they had faced death for what seemed like forever, so making some cliché remarks about their feelings appeared a worthless endeavour. Out in the snow somewhere was Gottfried, like a caged tiger, pacing the ice for their appearance. He would not be as easily delt with as his son. No, this man had experience with strugglers. They didn't stand a chance if they met him. Well, Lisbeth, maybe, but Mikael? Dead instantly. Like taking candy from an infant. They had no plan, there was no point. They had tried, but, it would come to a stand off. Inevitably, they would meet, face-to-face. Lisbeth and Mikael would face the monster side by side, and they would accept their fate.

Like a crappy version of Romeo and Juliet, really, said Blomvist's thoughts.

Snow closed them off from the rest of the world, but Mikael didn't feel alone. Lisbeth's breath was all the company he needed now. She stared at the floor, eyes like glassy opals as she pondered her own mortality that was coming so close. She shivered, mumbling something incomprehensible under her breath. Eventually, the atmosphere of their defeat caved in on her and she left to the kitchen. The flick of the kettle sounded from the distant room, echoing in the eerie enigma of their pretence.

She brought him a cup of tea, and then retired to her bedroom, leaving Mikael with the fire as his only friend.

He watched the flames crackle, feeling the flashbacks of his nightmares creep on him in the back of his mind where he had chained them. Their claws pricked at his brain, making him flinch. He was distracted from their touch by a flicker of a shadow at the window, but he dismissed it as a branch of a tree blowing in the breeze. Pulling a blanket from the storage cupboard, Mikael lay down on the floor, not having the energy to climb the ardous hike up the haunting staircase to his room, and closed his eyes, enveloped in darkness.

_'Mikael…he's here,"_

_A creek from outside in the hallway weaved into her words. Her breath was visible in the air as she crammed herself into the corner, knife in hand, shaking._

_"… he's coming for me, please you have to help me."_

_A hand clasped the doorknob. Her breath refused to stay in her chest, a steel bar of fear poking through her chest. She could feel his fingers on her already, imagine the bruises forming on her dying body as he strangled her, slowly pushing her into the ground._

_"He's come for me, and he's coming for you…"_

_Light bounced off the walls into the shadow of her hotel room as the door slowly opened, creaking like old bones in the darkness._

_" …and Lisbeth, please Mikael pick up the phone…"_

_Her heart plunged as his face appeared. His dead, grey skin, covered in the blood of the receptionist and whatever other sorry beings that had passed his way. She let out a scream, but it was too late. No-one could save her now._

Mikael woke screaming like Harriett, covered in sweat, but soon realised his scream was not the only one in the house.

Lisbeth screeched upstairs, voice bouncing Mikael to his feet and bounding up the stairs. Bloody hand prints covered the railing of the staircase, heading upwards. He bolted by the trail like a sniffer dog, adrenaline coursing through his busting veins. He reached her room with no breath left in his chest. The door was wide open, the same bloody prints wrapped around the handle. Gottfried's blood.

He didn't care about getting away with this, he just wanted revenge. Sweet, cold revenge, and that made him even more dangerous.

Mikael sprinted into the room, but it was empty, an open window blowing in the hard falling snow onto the floor. A note was left in blood on Lisbeth's mirror, smeared like dirt on the glass.

_**THE DEBT SHALL BE PAID.**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note/extreme apology: Ok, so to say this is late is like saying Hitler was a bit of a douche, so I sincerely apologize for the lateness, but it is my goal to complete this fic within the month, so cramming as much as I can! Thank you guys so much for your patience, I hope you enjoy! **

Chapter Five

'_Many also have perished, have erred, and sinned, for women…O ye men, how can it be but women should be so strong, seeing they do thus?' - Esdras, 4.26_

Everything about it was far too easy.

Lisbeth's blood in the snow like a breadcrumb trail.

Did Gottfried mean for him to know that? Did he think Mikael would care?

There was a fishing cabin out by the frosted river - draughty, collapsed roof, riddled with damp. Good for only one thing.

* * *

><p>Blackness gave way to sound, resonating like white noise in every fiber of her semi-lifeless being. The heavy black ghosts of shadows danced in a funeral march as her eyes opened.<p>

'So how long did it take for you to work it out? A day?'

The figure in front of her didn't even conjure enough surprise to create even a hint of terror in her. Of course she'd known. 'Half.' Lisbeth replied. With a smirk. Her last.

'And you said nothing to Mikael?'

Downcast eyes of stone met the inquisitive sadistic glance of Lisbeth's assailant. 'Do you want him to die? Would that make it easier for you?'

Her senses slowly creeping their way back to her, Lisbeth became aware of her predicament. A stone slab was her vertical sarcophagus, barbed wire was her chains, and her shaking breath was the fog before her eyes. She had every confidence that that fog wouldn't be lasting much longer - unless Mikael… He could be listening right now, hiding - she saw no sign of him, but she had to hope, had to warn him that - 'I could ask you the same thing, Erika.'

There. If he, non-existent God willing, was anywhere near, he would have heard that. He would know who 'Gottfried' really was. If.

Should she prolong it? _Face facts, Lisbeth_, she told herself_, either way this girl is going to kill you. You can't kill her, and the hell if Mikael will._ She gave herself three minutes.

'What are you trying to distract him from?'

Three minutes for Blomkvist to haul ass and find her. Three minutes for her to see the fog in front of her face. Three minutes to draw out as much-

'There will be no evil monologuing today, Lisbeth.'

One minute, then.

Erika came closer, and Lisbeth could see just how much more haggard and more haunting she had become. Her eyes were underlined by dark tides of sleepless nights, the whites were red with rage and pain, and she detected that the newest pair of crow's feet accentuating the edge of her eyes were only a few weeks old at best. She took bitter comfort in the fact that even after she was gone, Berger would still have those wrinkles. She would age. She would fall apart into dust. The thought manifested itself in the only peaceful breath she had known since she'd met Mikael.

Erika, the crazy ass bitch that she was, grabbed Lisbeth's head by both hands - left hand under her chin, digging her ragged nails into Lisbeth's cheeks, and the right hand by her ear, one finger hooked under one of her earrings and the rest tearing at what hair she had left. Her voice wasn't menacing. She probably wanted it to be, but she sounded almost calming to Lisbeth.

'You will die the second he steps through that door,' she breathed, 'and I will tell him how it was just too late to save you, that Gottfried had tried to kill me too, but run away when he realized I'd called the police-'

To hell with it. Mikael wasn't coming. She'd had enough of looking at Erika's sadistic, twisted, lustful eyes, so she chimed, 'What happened to no evil monologues? Honestly, Erika, I'd rather you just got on with it, you don't have long.'

Wind howled in through the fallen roof, throwing in the first hit of fresh snow. The tiny flakes flew into Berger's hair like dandruff, but soon melted under the intensity of Erika's internal fire.

'Fine.'

And with that, in one slick flow of her arm, Erika Berger slit the throat of Lisbeth Slander from one side to the other, using nothing but an old hunting knife that once belonged to her brother, Gottfried Vanger.

The devil below applauded to receive his newest plaything from his faithful servant, and Mikael burned inside at the savagery he sensed from inside the cabin he held in his sights. He was close, but, as always, never there when Lisbeth needed.

Her last thought was

_Fuck you, Mikael. _


End file.
